


Creature Comforts

by siDEADde



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Rizzles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siDEADde/pseuds/siDEADde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The longing hasn't changed since she was a child. It aches in a place that boarding school and accolades, Louboutin and Alexander McQueen cannot soothe. It's a pain that connects directly to her lachrymal glands and makes her eyes water despite all her efforts to the contrary.</p><p>"You want for nothing, Maura. Whatever could you be so upset about?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creature Comforts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [artemis-devotee](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=artemis-devotee).



The longing hasn't changed since she was a child. It aches in a place that boarding school and accolades, Louboutin and Alexander McQueen cannot soothe. It's a pain that connects directly to her lachrymal glands and makes her eyes water despite all her efforts to the contrary.

"You want for nothing, Maura. Whatever could you be so upset about?"

Her mother's words ring as loudly in her ears now at thirty-seven as they did at seven, and although Maura knows the statement is false, that she did indeed _want_ , just not for things, she still forces herself to deny her desire for acceptance, for comfort, for her best friend. She starts drying her eyes with her mother's indignation, a looped mantra – _I want for nothing, I want for nothing, I want for nothing._ Thank goodness she is in the elevator and no one can see her head tipped slightly back so the tears don't drag her mascara down her cheeks. Blindly, she digs in her bag for a tissue unable even to blink. There is no permitting these senseless tears to fall.

"Need some help?" Maura jumps, the ding of the elevator missed in her frantic search. That voice. That rough blend of concern and amusement, Maura doesn't need to look to see the expression on Jane's face. She's seen it a thousand times because it's always directed at her, tugging at her heart and making her stomach fill with butterflies.

"A tissue, please, center pocket in a little pack. I think there's something in my eye." _I want for nothing. I want for nothing._

"Oh really, something in your eye?"

The doctor can imagine those brown eyes rolling as Jane bats her hand away and rummages around in the purse. Maura feels the strap dig into her shoulder for a moment before Jane lifts it with one hand and rifles through it with the other. "I don't see, wait, ah hah!"

The tissue is waved around like a victory banner before Jane tucks it into Maura's seeking hand. The doctor touches the edge of the Kleenex to the corners of her eyes, then blinks rapidly and looks at her friend. Jane is leaning against the wall of the elevator, eyebrow raised over concerted dark eyes. "Better now?"

It's "the look"again, Maura's Achilles heel, and all she can do is nod and offer a weak smile. _I want for nothing_. "Perhaps we should exit the elevator now?" Jane only smirks in response, holding her arm towards the opened doors and following close behind as Maura walks out into the lobby. It's Friday and because of Frost's new girlfriend and Korsak's new rescue dog, drinks at the Robber have been cancelled.

"Janie!" The doctor watches Jane cringe as Angela's voice rings out from the café, echoing off the marble walls of the nearly deserted lobby. It's been quiet today, the unseasonably cool weather facilitating an unseasonably low desire to murder. Maura doesn't mind the lack of bodies; she and Susie have been able to transpose hundreds of hard copies into digital files. It's nearly as satisfactory as a clean Y incision, or a definitive tox report.

"What, Ma?" Jane responds with her typical whine, her hand shooting out to grab Maura's arm to stop her. The doctor smiles immediately, knowing what Jane is going to say before she says it.

"Maura and I have plans tonight, no time to talk, gotta go." Now instead of stopping, Jane is pulling Maura out of the precinct doors, and despite her proficiency in four inch heels, she's staggering to maintain her balance. The glass doors close behind them cutting off Angela's shouts, but Jane doesn't quit pulling her until they reach the detective's cruiser parked at the corner. Jane's face is all dimples and teeth and crinkly eyes and Maura can't help but make hers match. They stand by the unmarked and catch their breath, Jane leaning against the car as Maura rocks from one aching foot to the other.

"We can't go back to your house, Maur. She'll be barging in once she gets home, wanting to paint our nails and gossip while we cuddle in pajamas on the couch." Jane snickers and winks as she pulls open the passenger door, her enduring chivalry just makes Maura love her harder. The door slams and she adjusts her dress and buckles her seatbelt as Jane starts the car and pulls out of her illegal parking space.

"Your place then? I'll text your mother and ask her to feed Bass because it'll be too late when I get home." The doctor nibbles at her lower lip as she gazes out the window at the street signs as they fly by. _I want for nothing_. She's fishing for an invitation and she's sure that Jane won't disappoint.

"You're not going to stay? Drink too many glasses of wine? Watch Bridesmaids again? I put on fresh sheets!" Jane reaches over and pokes Maura in the side and the doctor jerks away, trying her best to look incensed rather than pleased.

"Not if you're going to behave like that. Didn't your mother ever tell you to keep your hands to yourself?" Maura slaps at Jane's hand as the detective jabs again. The act is futile of course, Jane's had a lifetime of aggravating her little brothers and Maura's had only three years of defending herself from pointy fingers and bony elbows. The doctor yelps when the pinch lands. "Fine, yes, I'll stay, you bully." She does her best to sound begrudging, but Maura can't even lie in tone.

Jane's focusing on the road, so Maura only sees one dimple, only one eye squinched at the corner but those little tokens of Jane's affection warm her belly. _I want for nothing._ But it is a lie, and she is already scratching surreptitiously at the hives rising behind her ear. Maura wants. Maura wants Jane's arms around her, soft lips brushing her forehead, Jane's stubborn, loyal, martyr heart. _I want for too much._ The doctor is accustomed to disappointment; it's been a constant since she realized that people didn't really want her around. Jane does now though, and Maura will do nothing to jeopardize that acceptance.

The detective is practically giddy as she helps Maura out of the car, hopping up the steps ahead of clicking heels to open the door with a flourish.

"I actually cleaned the place last night. Dusted and everything!"

"Jane, you know you don't need to do anything special for when I come over." The doctor works to sound sincere, although the relief in her voice at not having to scrub down the kitchen before eating shines through.

Jane just flashes those dimples again, dropping a smug wink as she bounds up the staircase to unlock her door. Maura clicks up the last three stairs and walks past Jane into the condo, hanging her jacket on a hook and dropping her purse onto the couch. She leans against the arm of the sofa and pulls off one Blahnik then the other, setting them neatly together. Jane leaves a trail of flotsam in her wake: keys and blazer tossed on the end table, boots haphazardly lay in the path to her bedroom, her belt and badge thrown on the counter.

"Do you want your takeout-and-movie-with-Jane clothes, Maur, or are you going to insist you're comfortable in that get-up and then spend the evening wiggling because you can't get situated?"

"I'll have you know that this is a Stella McCartney and –" She is cut off by a bark of laughter and sparking brown eyes. The detective is standing in front of the bathroom in sweats with a bundle of clothes in her hand.

"Come change. You can give your people-are-awesome-Ewwie-letter-3 presentation while I call for dinner." Jane presses the t-shirt and yoga pants into the doctor's hands then shoos her towards the bathroom to change. She shouts from the kitchen so that Maura can hear her while she pulls dishes from the cabinets. "I'm going to call for Vietnamese. I've a craving for pho. Is that alright?"

Maura doesn't bother to answer knowing full well that it's a rhetorical question and Jane already has her phone pressed against her ear, rattling off their typical order. The doctor doesn't much feel like soup tonight, but a happy Jane makes a happy Maura, and she's feeling especially needy.

The smell of Jane's Dove soap is soothing; something she experiences only here. Like always, she deliberates actually buying some as she washes the make-up off her face. If she bought the soap just to have the smell of Jane around when Jane herself is not, would it become commonplace to her nose and somehow make this ritual less special? Or worse, would Jane wonder why Maura was deviating from her Fragonard and Diptyque, and accuse her of slumming at the CVS? Or, horror of horrors, would she guess with that incredible Jane-Rizzoli intuition that Maura just bought the soap to have the smell of Jane around her house? She stares at her freshly scrubbed face in the mirror, pupils dilated with imagined fear at her secret being discovered, and immediately abandons all thoughts of investing in drug-store soap.

"Maur?! Did you fall in?"

The doctor wrinkles her nose as she wipes down the vanity and throws her towel in the uncharacteristically empty hamper. "No, why do you have to be so crude?"

"Because you are taking FOREVVVER." Jane's voice is right outside the bathroom, but Maura jumps anyway when she bangs on the door and shoves her way in.

"What would you have done if I wasn't dressed?" Maura does her best to sound indignant.

"I would have given you a pinkbelly or purple nurple…" Jane bursts into laughter at the blush and look of confused horror on Maura's face. She isn't sure what either thing is, but knowing Jane they're both probably painful and/or mortifying. When the detective brunette realizes Maura has no idea what she's talking about her eyes roll and she grins.

"Really? God, Maura, I knew you were dressed. It's the first thing you do when you come in here. Number one, you get dressed. Number two, you wash your face. Number three, you muck around in my vanity. Are you done with the remainder of your routine, or should I leave and let you alphabetize my medicine cabinet and roll my washcloths into little cylinders instead of squares?"

Jane raises her eyebrow, but Maura's never been especially quick with wit. Instead she holds Jane's gaze defiantly and reaches over to pull the two towels off the rack and onto the floor. She sticks her tongue out at the detective, pushing past as Jane dissolves into raucous laughter. Maura is always surprised at how good juvenile behavior sometimes feels; how such a silly act can make her worries melt away. It's no wonder Frost, Frankie, Jane and Korsak are constantly mocking and pranking one another. It's the only way they stay sane.

Dinner arrives and the women move to their typical seats – Jane sprawled on three quarters of the sofa as Maura sits primly on the remaining unoccupied cushion, her soup bowl cupped in her hands. Jane slurps loudly, obviously relishing Maura's cringes and pointed scowl.

"Hey Maur?" Jane scrapes the last of her noodles and vegetables together. "Do you like sea food?"

Maura frowns in confusion. First of all, Jane knows that she is quite fond of seafood; they just went out last week and for two days Maura had talked endlessly about the high quality of the shellfish salad she had ordered. Second, they're sitting in Jane's living room with empty pho bowls. The detective can't possibly be hungry, could she? They'd just finished eating. The doctor wracks her brain for seafood eateries nearby, just in case.

"Of course I do." Her response is distracted.

"Good."

"I don't think I understand why you're –" When Maura turns to face her friend she is greeted with an open mouthful of chewed food and then a giggling, choking Jane.

"SEE food…..get it? I know how much you love wordplay."

"Jane Rizzoli, that was repulsive." Maura fights to put a look of disapproval on her face, grabbing her bowl and Jane's and carrying them both to the kitchen where she grins, undetected, into the dishwasher. The detective is in an especially good mood this evening to be joking as much as she is. If Maura didn't know her better, she would say Jane is being a mighty flirt.

"Aw come on, that was funny!"

"It was vulgar. Again. That's twice in one night!"

"I can hear you smiling. Come back here so we can start the movie." Jane shuffles around, setting up the entertainment system so that the surround sound is on and putting the DVD in the player. Maura can hear the previews begin so she grabs Jane another beer and fills her wineglass, making her way to the couch with a hint of apprehension despite her smile.

This is the hardest part of the evening. Maura has never been able to get lost in a movie to the same degree that Jane does. Especially not a comedy, since it requires so much more social intelligence than Maura possesses. Instead, while Jane's eyes sparkle in the light of the screen and she laughs at whatever is unfolding, Maura focuses all of her attention on Jane's left hand. Jane made her watch a series of science fiction movies wherein the main character was able to move objects with his mind. Despite how obviously ridiculous it is, the doctor still concentrates on moving that hand to her thigh, or her own hand, or even around her shoulders. Maura won't help herself to the contentment that Jane's touch brings, but if the detective offers…well, Maura has never turned her down. She will take any little bit she is given.

"Are you alright?" Maura flushes and yanks her eyes up to meet Jane's curious gaze.

 _I want for noth –_ "I'm fine." Her voice is higher than she'd like but she pushes on in the hope Jane won't notice. "Just a bit tired."

"Well this is almost over, but you don't have to stay until it is if you're tired." Jane shifts sideways on the couch so that she now faces the doctor, one dark eyebrow arched. "Are you awake and sober enough to drive home?"

And here is the moment of truth. Maura isn't the least bit fatigued or drunk, but she doesn't want to leave. She tries to keep her face neutral as she struggles with disappointment at Jane's question. Fridays almost always have the two of them sleeping in one of their beds, booze-buzzed and laughing about the movie they just watched, their abysmal love-lives, or Rizzoli family antics. The doctor lives for Friday nights; not only because she is a creature of habit, but also because she needs Jane close. She needs the recharge to her heart and soul that Jane's affection brings. Maura doesn't just want for Jane, she needs for her.

"Maur?" The doctor jumps at the husky voice, a shiver curling itself down her spine. Jane is looking at her, slight frown marring otherwise perfect features. The detective passes a hand in front of Maura's still-staring eyes. "Hey? No protest? You're actually going home? We always spend Friday night together…"

Maura's eyes jump to Jane's when she hears the genuine discontent woven into the whine. She shakes her head, serving to clear it and offer a denial at the same time. "No, no. I –I…" Before she can stop herself she grabs Jane's hand, and clutching it with a sudden desperation, bites her lip to keep all of her pent up adoration where it belongs – inside.

"I would love to stay. Thank you." Dragging a deep breath through her nose, she loosens her grip on Jane's hand and smiles a bit sheepishly, bracing herself for that moment when Jane pulls away. Every withdrawal of those long fingers, each brush of scar tissue along her palm takes a small piece of Maura's heart with them, but tonight Jane leaves her hand nestled loosely in Maura's and turns back to the movie. Now, there is no chance that the doctor will see any of the movie. No, instead she sits like a statue, breathing soft and shallow and barely blinking. It is possible that Jane has forgotten her hand is in Maura's, and Maura will allow no movement to remind her.

She manages to remain perfectly still for ten whole minutes before she realizes that her body has betrayed her. Her thumb softly traces Jane's knuckles with just a whisper of touch. The moment is surreal; in an almost out of body experience, Maura's eyes follow the motion of the rogue digit across smooth skin then flick upwards, a blush burning across her cheeks as she sees Jane is staring at her.

"I di – I'm sorry…" Maura moves to pull her hand away, but Jane catches her wrist and the doctor can feel her own pulse thrumming against Jane's thumb. She drops her eyes from the burning-black of Jane's and lets the heat of embarrassment wash over her.

"Hey. Look at me." And just like that, the heat freezes into a lump of ice in the pit of her stomach. Maura tries again to pull her hand away, to wrap her arms around herself in an effort to keep all of her together, to contain the pieces that are now threatening to careen off into space. Jane's fingers lightly tighten around her wrist and Maura fights the tug that follows. "Maura, come on."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me." Maura apologizes again, this time to Jane's knees and her own encircled wrist, the uncomfortable heat in her cheeks not touching the freezing dread still in her middle. She cannot make herself look up; any rejection in Jane's eyes would kill her, even if it were tempered by a smile. And then she feels it, Jane's thumb moving in a soft circle against the smooth skin of her wrist.

"Please." Maura can't refuse that tone, gentle and slightly pleading. She's only heard Jane beg one time, and that was aimed at a serial killer who had a knife against Maura's throat. Jane's gaze is intense, but soft and earnest, not even a hint of disgust or dismay. Maura blinks quickly, then squeezes her eyes shut for a moment to shut down the surprising burn of tears.

"Hey, hey, no. Maur—Look. I know I've been a bit goofy tonight." Her thumb still gently caresses the inside of Maura's wrist, grounding them both. "But I just have this feeling..…I've _had_ this feeling all day. Light. Carefree but still, like, nervous." Jane turns so that their knees are touching and reaches out for Maura's other hand. Maura flashes back to the last time they sat like this, Jane emphatic about reaffirming Maura's good character and loving personality, despite the neglectful childhood.

"Don't ever apologize for touching me, alright?" Maura bites on her lip when Jane squeezes her fingers, nodding slightly at Jane's question. "Because I want…" Jane shifts uncomfortably, shoulders shrugging and jaw tightening, but her gaze doesn't waver, "I want you to touch me, when you want to. I mean, sometimes I just get these urges to hold your hand, or—"

"Climb into your lap and tuck my head up against your shoulder?" The fantasy leaps from Maura's lips before she can stop it and her face flames again. Jane lets her pull her hands away to cover her burning cheeks, but when she buries her face in her hands she can feel Jane's long legs subtly nudge their way beneath her knees. The next thing she knows, Jane's arm snakes around her waist and yanks her from her perch on the couch right to where she's wanted to curl up for the past three years.

"Oh!" The gasp pops out, unbidden, and Jane stills for a moment.

"Did I hurt you?" The brunette hesitates a moment in her rearranging of limbs. Maura is too undone to answer aloud, so she only shakes her head. Content now that she knows Maura isn't hurt, Jane settles back against the couch, pulling the smaller woman against her. Maura sniffles, so overwhelmed by emotion she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. They fit together perfectly, Maura's softer curves compliment Jane's sharp angles; it's exactly as she knew it would be. She snuggles closer and when Jane's arms settle around her, she can finally relax.

"Please tell me that's not drool or snot." Jane turns her head and snuffles into Maura's hair, and Maura swears she can feel the absence of pressure where the brunette's dimple would be on the cheek pressed against the top of her head.

"They're happy tears." Maura nuzzles in against Jane's neck, "I'm so happy. So, so happy." Jane's arms tighten around her, briefly squeezing hard enough that Maura squeaks. "Three years, Jane. I've wanted to do this for three years."

She feels Jane press a kiss into her hair and the sense of serenity that fills her is a peace she's never known, but has searched for since she was seven.

"What does this mean for us?" She can't help but ask. Maura fights the instinct to pull away and prepare for disappointment. When Jane feels her stiffen slightly, she only holds Maura tighter and whispers in her hair.

"What do you want it to mean?"

Maura pushes back a bit in the circle of Jane's arms. She needs to look into those soulful eyes, she needs Jane to understand. "I want for there to _be_ an us. I want you, like this…I _need_ you close like this. Just holding me, for now."

She could get lost in Jane's eyes, and for a moment she does, missing completely what Jane asks her next. "Are you sure that's all you want, because I can't give you all those other expensive things you love."

"What?"

Jane smiles at her befuddlement and leans down to impulsively kiss the tip of her nose. Jane's voice is just above a whisper and the smoky timbre wraps around her like an embrace. "What else do you want, Maura?"

"Besides you? Nothing. I want for nothing."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted from a friend on Tumblr: She wanted fluffy, Maura-centric, new relationship. I hope you enjoy it, B!
> 
> Thanks as always to Socks-lost and Rizzleseverywhere for their constant encouragement. I've been sitting on this for months.


End file.
